Housekeeping
by Nanchih
Summary: A peaceful moment between friends, after the first task of the Tri-Wizard. Ever wonder about the Dragon Reserves?


Deep in the Forbidden Forrest the ground rose in a stone bluff nearly as high as the one Hogwarts Castle stood upon over the Black Loch. This second stone bluff was full of small caves and cracks. Springs rose through the cracks, with plenty of moss. Trees and vines rooted deep in the duff, wedged themselves into any possible space. Right against the base of the bluff four great pens had been carved out of the stone, and the stone blocks used to build walls around each. An overhanging ledge was left as sort of a roof, with the springs from above fed over the lip. Trees and plant life had been peeled back to the edges of the clearing. It was quiet now, but steam rose from the enclosures and no water flowed out.

Charlie walked up to Hagrid, stomping and shaking ash off his dragon-skin coat. Hagrid was doing the same, and brushing ash off his beard as well. "Let's go find Professor Sprout. Looks like we're finally finished."

Hagrid replied, "She'll be in the greenhouses." The pair walked through the snowy woods toward the school, circling the edge of the Loch on the muddy path left from the dragons being brought around that way, and taking the stone bridge from the Pitch. Charlie had been a good seeker because he had such long arms as a boy, but he had grown into them and was now a very large, muscled man. He still looked like a child next to Hagrid.

Entering the greenhouse nearest the end, they found the diminutive professor counting neatly stacked bags of fertilizer and peat under the workbenches. She looked up as they came in, and dodged a blob of melting snow Hagrid brushed off his shoulder. "All right there, chaps? Got it all cleared up out there? I just finished the inventory here. Let's go have a cuppa!" And without waiting an answer she bustled to the taps to wash up, calling an elf to bring tea for three to the benches at the end. Pomona had amazingly high energy, and often left others gasping behind her. However, Charlie and Hagrid were used to her and just followed, shedding their coats in the warmth. They laid them over the bags, and soon there was steam rising from the coats. One of the reasons Dragon dung fertilizer was so popular in Scotland was the lingering heat around the roots kept plants thriving in the short growing season. The greenhouses stayed so warm there were fresh vegetables and green plants for the classes all year around.

Cups appeared on the highest bench. Hagrid's was the size of a 5K nail keg, Charlie's a liter, and Pomona's a normal flowered teacup. There were plates of warm scones, Devon Cream, and a large pot of honey. Hagrid quickly scooped both cream and honey into his tea, followed by Charlie. Pomona took just a bit of each, and an apricot scone.

Charlie drank half his mug without stopping, then set it down and began his report. "We had the boys bring your next shipment of fertilizer a bit early so we were packing loads both ways. For the cleanup we used the same enclosures the dragons lived in, right up against the cliff. We had hollowed the cliff out a bit like caves and used that stone for surrounding walls. Since we didn't allow the girls to fly, most of their dung stayed right in the pens, keeping the nests hot. That made it a lot easier to push into the hollows after they were taken home. We had turned the springs at the top of the cliff to give the girls water while they were here; we just turned them again to run right into the caves. The dung is steaming, but should cool and soften a little faster than normal. I estimate you may be able to use the Green or Opal for fertilizer in about 10 years. The Fireball and the Black will take much longer. I'll mark the calendar back at the Reserve and someone will come check on it for you. It's all sterile, of course, so it won't smell bad. We caught the urine up into wax-lined bottles but I'm afraid the grass there is dead for this year. Hydroflouric Acid is nasty stuff. I've sent some down to the Potions labs.

There are already small creatures, drawn by the heat and high level of magic; salamanders and fairies are moving into the niches in the stone walls. Vines and moss should follow quickly. By Spring in two years you'll have a romantic picnic glade that will stay warm long into the Fall and melt early.

There are even a few small caves closer to the road to Hogsmeade which someone has dragged a dung rock into. Thus, they are now warm and dry. I left them alone except for placing the standard broom closet charms. I included birth control and compulsion-breaking, along with the standard alert to the Deputy in case someone just gets lost or injured in the woods. Oh, and low level vermin wards. The larger vermin, like the spiders, already evacuated the area when the dragons came."

He stopped, took a breath, and another long pull of his tea.

Hagrid put down his mug and asked, "Besides the fertilizer, what else does the Reserve do for money? I never heard of them getting anything from the ICW."

"We don't. The Reserve is self-supporting and actually pays agriculture taxes. Fertilizer is a major source, of course, but it's far from our only funds. We sell the acid, what we don't use ourselves in etching glass. We sell glass, since we have unlimited heat available. I spend most of every Winter in the glass-blowing rooms! I also carve Obsidian - we trade with other Reserves for other colors. Here are some I brought to give the kids!" He pulled out a leather pouch and spilled a dozen wrapped blobs onto the table. Unwrapped, they revealed animal figurines in red, black, blue-green and even white, each with a tiny loop affixed and a leather thong of the same color. He wrapped each carefully and tucked them away. "Dragons shed their skins, like most snakes. We collect it and process it into leather. We collect and sell shell shards, shed scales, and shed teeth for potions, wands, and charms. About once a year one of our old dragons will die, and I think we use every part! Ollivander has a standing order for the hearts, including heartstrings. The exotic meat market takes all the meat. There are 12 official uses for Dragon Blood, and I suspect a few experimental ones. Even the bones are worth their weight in gold."

Hagrid blushed and ducked his head. "I bought one for Fang, and three for Fluffy. They love them, and haven't managed to chew them up yet!"

"They probably will not, ever. It's been said that dragon bones are made of the rocks of the earth. Not quite true, but they certainly are tough."

Pomona had latched onto a different thought. "A Picnic Glade is a great idea! I am always looking for projects for the upper classes! We'll have to clear a proper path, build some tables, and we can start some seedling pots in the greenhouses to transplant in the Spring! I can use Detention crews clearing and graveling that muddy track into a decent pathway..." She was scribbling and sketching on the backs of some used parchments, estimating measurements.

Charlie grinned at Hagrid, and passed her a crumpled sketch of the glade from his pocket.

Hagrid wrinkled his nose, dug in his pocket, and passed oved a sickle before he continued with his questions. "So, the dragons hibernate? What else do you do all winter?"

"They don't hibernate. They are fire - they never cool down enough to hibernate. They do, however, 'brumate'. That means they slow down enough to sleep most of the Winter. 'Most' isn't even close to 'all' Winter. It is not unusual to see any of them out for a fly-around or grabbing a snack. Once it snows we see the little ones sliding down the mountains almost every day. When the snow gets really deep the adults will come out, too. They seem to like causing avalanches and body-surfing them. The heat of their bodies will melt enough snow to form long ice tubes and ice slides, all the way downhill. They stay off the ice on the lakes in the caldera. It's never thick enough to support them."

"When they go back to bed, we get to play under the Midnight Sky and the Aurora Borealis. I'm absolutely sure those tubes form the best Luge Tubes in the world. Same for the long slides! We ski a lot, and ice skate, too. There are hot springs everywhere, so we enjoy a good soaking! Our valley is between several volcanoes edging a larger caldera, so we are very high and isolated. The volcanoes give off enough smoke and steam that the whole area is surrounded by clouds most of the time, even when it's clear in the valley. The villages nearby think we are some kind of monks, but are happy to sell to us and buy our glass and leather. They know it's a Nature Reserve up there. We tell them we are Park Rangers, but they don't really believe us."

Charlie finished his tea, and collected his coat. "I'm off. I'm going to eat with my family in the Great Hall before going to the Burrow tonight. I have the rest of the week, and going home sounds pretty good!"

Pomona absently waved at him with her tea cup, still estimating what they could do with the idea of a Picnic Glade. Hagrid finished his, wiped his beard dry, and collected his own dry coat. "Come on, girl, it's almost time for dinner. We can talk this over with the other teachers." Together, they headed up the passage, hanging their coats in the hall near the Teacher's entrance. Behind them, their cups and plates vanished neatly.


End file.
